


Without a sound, I approach your tempting sweet skin

by noelre



Series: Dolce [1]
Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Alpha/Omega, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bodily Fluids, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Marking, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mild Painplay, Multiple Orgasms, Omega Verse, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rimming, Rough Sex, Sex Toys, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-09
Updated: 2015-02-09
Packaged: 2018-03-11 10:10:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3323624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noelre/pseuds/noelre
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first time Takao had experienced the heat, he hid himself from Shin-chan for three days.</p>
<p>“So you’re…” Midorima paused. “Asking me to ignore that… ah, exquisite, <em>mouth-watering</em> scent of yours and not do a single thing?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Without a sound, I approach your tempting sweet skin

**Author's Note:**

> Catchy title.
> 
> All I wanted was to write about self-lubricating asses and indulge with sex scenes I normally don't write. Blame [this](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uD7keQXum7A) masterpiece.
> 
> This is just porn, nothing more.

The first time Takao had experienced the heat, he hid himself from Shin-chan for three days. He knew how the cards of fate had been dealt to them, and he hadn’t been ready to wreck their friendship quite yet.

 

Stuff like that still bothered him, but he tried not to think about it too much. Instead of driving himself mad with things that didn’t even matter, bimonthly Takao locked himself in his room and refused Midorima’s company. Still, that was precisely the kind of stuff that nagged in his mind instead of mathematic formulas as he slumped over the table in the living room and groaned loudly.

 

“Concentrate,” Midorima grunted for the umpteenth time.

 

“I’m trying!” Takao nuzzled his cheek against the page of his notebook. The paper glued to his skin, and he made no effort to peel it off. They were one now. “Shin-chan, give me some mercy, I can’t do it anymore…”

 

Midorima huffed heavily through his nose. “I said, _concentrate_. How many do you still have left, five, six?”

 

“Eleven.”

 

“You’ve completed _one_ in the last half an hour? Idiot,” hissed Midorima and grabbed Takao’s notebook, so hard in fact that the other boy’s cheek stung.

 

Takao rubbed the sore spot and watched Midorima’s sharp profile as the smarter of them leaned over his ugly scrawls that tried to resemble numbers. Heaving out a sigh, he rested his chin on his palm and puckered his lips. He let his gaze wander around. For a sleepover lasting three days, Midorima surely had brought a pretty full backpack with him. He was grateful that Midorima had agreed to it in the first place, but he hadn’t exactly thought of _homework_ when he had the invitation in mind. The three days were supposed to be fun, especially now that his parents were away, but here was, imprisoned in his own living room.

 

Now, he had done calculations, too, yet not as mathematical as the ones presented in the book. His heat wasn’t going to start until eight days later. He was solid and settled for the days locked together in the apartment together with Midorima. But _homework_? He wanted to go out and play games and watch movies and tease Midorima, not bother his silly head with trigonometry and geometry and other metries that he didn’t know about. Bored and waiting, Takao chewed his bottom lip and rubbed his temples. The way Midorima’s brows drew together in concentration was cute. He stared at the wrinkly spot right above the middle of the glasses and wanted to nudge it to draw out some sort of a reaction. Anything would have been fine, as long as it didn’t involve multiplication and division.

 

“—Takao.”

 

It was a low growl right against the root of his ear. Takao startled, and his heart jumped straight through his esophagus and towards his mouth. His eyes widening, he managed to move his chin an inch to the right when he already countered Midorima’s features next to him. His pulse ticked next to his spine as he eyed the long lashes hiding under the slight reflection of the glasses. Midorima glanced at him and frowned even deeper. Managing to part his lips, Takao couldn’t muster out a thing. His palms turned sweaty, and he rubbed them against his knees.

 

He whimpered. “What?”

 

“You weren’t paying attention at all, did you?”

 

It took him a moment to collect himself. “I did!”

 

Midorima shook his head. He removed his glasses to rub his eyes, and Takao couldn’t really look elsewhere. Of course he had always known what a beauty Midorima was – everyone thought so even when they didn’t want to admit it –, but every now and then he found his breath hitching and his lungs forcing a sudden lock-down. By the time Midorima fixed his gaze to him, he looked down at his notebook. His pulse danced in his ears, made it sound like a gush of waves hitting ashore. He trailed his tongue over his bottom lip and narrowed his eyes, but Midorima’s neat numbers in his notebook looked like a blur. He swallowed hard. His Adam’s apple bounced painfully up and down, and his collar felt tight and itching.

 

“Look, you take this number here…” Midorima began and moved his finger across the paper and over the numbers that didn’t make any sense to Takao. Takao tried to focus but couldn’t. He craned his neck and nodded here and there to appear like he _was_ listening, knowing fully well the fury Midorima would unleash at him if he wasn’t paying attention again. He followed the fingers’ movements, watched them glide smoothly, heard the other’s voice but couldn’t quite grasp the words. He felt drowsy. He blamed math for it.

 

A sniff. That was what pulled him out of his thoughts. He heard it loud and clear, right on the side of his nape. Takao’s eyes revealed a hint of too much white. Another sniff; this one was more discreet, quieter, disguised as a normal sound, but Takao knew. The soft hair on his nape stood up. His skin slumped to goose bumps, and his core quivered.

 

“Why are you smelling me, Shin-chan?” He _knew_ he didn’t smell like anything, not in eight days, so he couldn’t wrap his mind around Midorima’s instincts.

 

Midorima drew in a sharp inhale and pulled back. “What? No, I’m not smelling you, why would I? That’s absolutely absurd, don’t be ridiculous, that’s just, there’s nothing to smell about you.” His rambling tattled that it wasn’t as absurd idea as he wanted to play it off.

 

Takao craned his neck and didn’t say anything. Maybe he simply carried a bad scent and it got stuck in Midorima’s nose. He tugged his collar towards his face and sniffed gently. Perhaps it was a little sweaty… He pulled his hoodie off and leaned back on his elbows. He felt a little damp under his arms, admittedly. As a rock rolled off his shoulders, he pressed the back of his head on the floor and stared at the ceiling. He rolled his eyes close and listened Midorima shift beside him; it was followed by the sound of turning pages. His heart, however, was still ticking hard right underneath the sheer surface of the skin, and Takao couldn’t get rid of the sensation. Midorima’s face had been mere inches away from his neck. Surely, if Midorima had only bared his teeth, he could have nipped a mark on the paleness…

 

Trembling, Takao’s eyes fluttered open. He breathed harder and pulled himself to sit up. What was he thinking about? Midorima was the final person he wanted to mark him, because the moment _that_ would happen, their friendship was ruined. He’d be nothing but a peace of meat to Midorima, and he wasn’t ready to degrade himself to such a position. Under Midorima’s watchful eyes Takao pulled the hoodie back over his shivering body and scurried up on his feet.

 

“My mouth’s so dry, I’m gonna get myself something to drink. You want anything?”

 

Midorima looked up at him, a moment too long before he averted his gaze back to the books. “Just water is fine.” He paused and continued abruptly, “While you’re at it, can you open the window?”

 

“Uh… Sure.”

 

Takao puckered his lips to a small pout and hopped towards the window, pulled it open and hurried to the kitchen. He really must have smelled bad for Midorima to request something like that. The thought actually made him chuckle – the next time he’d ask him over, he’d scrub his body spotless beforehand. He tiptoed to get two glasses and filled them with water. He swung around to return, but the moment he twisted his body, his insides pulsed.

 

Just like that, without a warning, he felt wetness trickle down his thigh under the loose sweatpants. The world spun around him, and the noisiest ringing filled his ears. He dropped the glasses on the floor and pressed his palms over the sides of his head, squeezed hard. His mind was going to split in half, _no_ , he was going to die from the noise he couldn’t understand himself. His knees buckled and wanted to bring him down on the floor but he refused and leaned his thighs against the table instead. The stirring hotness began from the very tips of his toes and climbed up, crawled over his bones and coated them with what felt like burning honey. Takao pressed his forehead against the table and wanted to resist, wanted it to stop, but his skin prickled under his clothes, glowed, emitted warmth that he wasn’t prepared to. This wasn’t supposed to happen, not now, _not now_ , not when Midorima was here…! Breathing heavily, he parted his thighs and arched his back, threw his head behind and let out a needy whine. He tightened his insides to savor every last drop of dew that threatened to ooze out, but the liquid licked his skin.

 

He stared at the doorframe. Part of him hoped that Midorima would march in and find him here. Takao pressed his abdomen against the sharp edge of the table and pressed his legs tightly together. His mind buzzed, and his breath labored, turned ragged, and he had to work hard to get oxygen in his system. He pushed himself properly on his feet and fanned himself with the help of his hand. He knew without a look in the mirror that his cheek glowed from the red he didn’t want to experience. Takao squeezed his eyes shut and tried not to step over the shards.

 

“Takao?” Midorima called. “What was that noise?”

 

Takao cleared his throat and yanked his collar farther away from his throat. “I just dropped the glasses on the floor!” His voice trembled badly. There was no way he could hide this from Midorima – he’d smell him in a heartbeat. Idly he wondered if escaping was a solution, and decided against it. His fingers quivering, he took two glasses more and filled them with water, and bottomed one immediately. The cold liquid poured down his throat, and hungrily he gulped it down leaving no drop behind. It merely soothed him for a second. The fervor returned.

 

Collecting himself to a neat package didn’t work but he tried for the sake of preserving serenity between them. The moment he stepped back to the living room, the calm disappeared from within him as he laid his eyes on Midorima. His nostrils flared. The stare he received from his friend, he had never gotten it before. Under the glasses Midorima’s eyes widened, then narrowed, and Takao couldn’t breathe. He was pinned to the spot by the gaze, and not once before had he wanted anything so much but that guy right there. It was exactly what he had tried to avoid through all his heat cycles, but now he was locked in the same room and felt claustrophobic. The glasses in his hands shook. He curled his toes. The cold air from the open window seeped under the fabric of his clothes but couldn’t brush away the heat.

 

The silence prolonged and killed him.

 

Midorima snapped out of it first. He cleared his throat and averted his gaze. “What are you standing there like an idiot? Come here, I’m thirsty.”

 

Takao couldn’t resist. He eased back to his place and set the glasses so hard on the table that some water dripped to the notebook. The ink spread apart with the speed of Takao’s resolution that shredded to small pieces whenever he looked at Midorima. Afraid of asking what he desired, he pulled his legs up against his chest and hugged himself, but the sloppiness over the rim of muscle hiding beneath flesh only got more excited. He whimpered under his breath and pressed his chin tight against his knees. Strictly he stared in front of him and tried to fight the mental images of having something hard, thick and veiny pounding inside him. He pressed his bottom harder against the floor but it did the opposite of what he desired. Poking his tongue out, he panted. He hugged his upper body tighter and shudder.

 

“You okay?” Midorima asked with surprising softness in his voice.

 

“Y-Yeah… I’m just… cold… the window…” Takao offered him a shaky smile but cringed straight afterwards. Midorima’s voice had never sounded as alluring and inviting as it did now. Why exactly his heat started earlier, he didn’t find an answer from the painted walls. Beside him he heard another loud sniff. He _knew_. Midorima knew. He knew that Midorima knew, and Midorima knew that he knew. Takao shuddered and pulled himself to a smaller curl.

 

“Takao,” Midorima growled lowly under his breath.

 

Takao shook his head. He whispered, “Don’t.”

 

“Are you really that much against me easing your heat?”

 

“Yeah.” Takao hid his face to his forearm and peeked towards Midorima. The schoolbooks were discarded completely, and Midorima’s body faced him. Underneath the thin fabric hid a body he wanted, long and lean muscles that made Midorima the beauty he was. The same muscles would be able to ravage him thoroughly and leave him satisfied for the first time ever since he presented. Takao sucked his lip in and pressed his face back to his arm. “It’ll ruin everything.”

 

“So you’re…” Midorima paused. He dragged his tongue along his lower lip and tipped his head to the side. His neck corded and revealed a series of pulsing veins that popped to the thin surface of his skin. “Asking me to ignore that… ah, exquisite, _mouth-watering_ scent of yours and not do a single thing?”

 

Takao stared at him. Swallowed hard and loosened his grip from his own body. “I… _nn_.” He cringed and brushed his bangs out of the way, some behind his ear. His fingers didn’t stop trembling. His abdomen swelled from the pressure, and inside his pants his cock twitched. “We… can’t, we’re friends—“

 

“I never thought of you as a _friend_.” Midorima spat it out like a curse. He worked himself up on his knees and approached. “I claimed you as mine from day one, and now you’re denying from me the thing that is already mine?”

 

Parting his lips to a silent protest, Takao followed the movements of Midorima’s body that stopped beside him. So much fabric in the way… His forehead felt even hotter under his cold fingers. He clenched his muscles and tried to get in control of his breaths. Not much success in that department, Takao let out a loud whine when Midorima sank his teeth to his neck. He didn’t struggle or resist but allowed the harsh nips and tugs to pierce his skin. He slipped his eyes close and blindly searched for Midorima’s hand to his own. When he found it, he squeezed hard. To his surprise, Midorima tangled their fingers together and didn’t let go. The straight line of teeth kept tormenting him. His cock jerked again. All the blood rushed downwards, and Takao found himself with a belated hard-on.

 

Midorima pulled back with a loud, wet pop. Takao’s skin tingled and felt cold from the spot that was covered by saliva. Through hooded eyes he examined Midorima and whimpered when the other pressed his thumb on the pounding vein on his neck. Takao pushed his hips down on the floor.

 

“You smell so good.” So Midorima said but held a blush on his features; the redness even overtook his earlobes. He pushed his glasses better on the bridge of his nose, and from the everyday gesture Takao understood that Midorima wasn’t as experienced as he had thought him to be.

 

He clutched the long fingers harder to his grasp. Midorima trailed the tip of his nose against the side of Takao’s neck. His breath felt so hot and damp, and Takao was ready to give up for good. He dipped his head down, but Midorima yanked it back up by grabbing his chin. They looked at each other for a second, and then Takao found his lips in a tight lock with Midorima’s. He knew that neither of them wouldn’t do this without his idiotic heat, but such a thing didn’t really matter at the moment. All he was interested was Midorima dragging his tongue in his mouth and enslaving his. Takao moaned against his lips and felt his insides vibrate. He sucked Midorima’s tongue until he was forced to stop, and reluctantly pulled back. His mouth filled with saliva that didn’t belong to him, he breathed harshly and looked at his friend.

 

“Let me do it,” Midorima begged. Although he asked for it, already he slipped his hands underneath the thick hoodie and over the burning skin. Takao squirmed and tried not to fall on the floor. “Takao… Don’t do this to me.”

 

“Ah, _hnn_ , Shin-chan…” He wiggled under the firm embrace. Silently he mouthed, “Do it… Take me…”

 

The kiss had already ruined the friendship. He might as well get some soothing to the pain of the heat now that they were at it.

 

Midorima didn’t have to be coaxed twice. He pushed Takao down on the floor without a second’s pause. Takao let out a squeal but helped Midorima yank his hoodie and shirt off. His chest burned, from outside and deep within, and he felt like his heart wanted to jump out of its bony birdcage. His skin on goose bumps, he panted and straightened his legs, and watched Midorima tug his pants off. Stripped down to his underwear, Takao rolled his eyes close and buckled his hips up as Midorima palmed him. Such a simple gesture was ready to make him burst, and underneath the pretty fingers his cock strained against the loose fabric of his boxers. The world kept spinning around him, and whenever he made the mistake of opening his eyes, he felt nauseous. There was efficiency in Midorima’s movements, and it reminded Takao of a silent killer that wouldn’t have to hit twice. He squirmed out of the last item of clothing. The breeze toyed with his hardened length and the curls of pubic hair and made him shiver.

 

“Shin-chan…”

 

“Shut up,” Midorima grunted. He chanted, “Shut up, shut up… shut up, shut up…”

 

Takao let go of the last piece of rationale and dignity. “Fuck me—Ah, just _fuck me_ , I need it, Shin-chan, I need it… I need your dick, please, _please_ …”

 

It was the only way for him to calm down. Midorima was conveniently here, too. Midorima was also someone he trusted with all his heart, so they might as well trash over their friendship with heavy footsteps of passion and lust.

 

Midorima took such a tight hold of his ankles that Takao thought they were going to snap in half, or at least leave a bruising as a memory of the aberration. His thighs parted, and he didn’t do anything to cover his weeping erection that demanded attention. Midorima gave it none but plunged a finger inside him without a problem. Takao tightened his insides and cried out, twisted and wiggled, but Midorima kept him in place. Wetness swooshed inside him like a tall influx, and he sucked the finger deeper. His head ready to explode, he pushed his hips up to offer himself to the other. His hipbones popped to the surface, and Midorima tapped them.

 

“I want to eat you.”

 

“N-No… No, Shin-chan, fuck me…” Takao pleaded.

 

“I’m eating you!” Midorima barked.

 

Takao had never seen such fire in Midorima’s eyes that now made him press his lips flat. Unable to utter out a word, he did cry out when Midorima pulled his bottom high in the air. His legs tangling over the taller boy’s shoulders, Takao watched Midorima’s free arm sneak over his abdomen and towards his chest like a snake readying its attack. Knowing fully well that he was the prey, he curled his fingers around the wrist and yanked it to himself. He darted his tongue out and trailed it against the digits, between them, tasted the tanginess of frustration and popped them in his mouth one by one.

 

He nearly choked when Midorima shoved his fingers deeper in his mouth. He gagged, but stubbornly the fingers remained, and he had no other choice but to keep sucking them. Through the murk of pleasure taking over him he watched the bush of green hair disappear between his thighs. Before he could scream at Midorima not to do what he clearly set out to do, a tip of a sharp tongue flicked across the rim of his hole and lapped up the wetness. Midorima murmured incoherent words and trailed his tongue around, swirled it in a sloppy circle and sucked the untouched flesh. Takao squeezed his eyes shut and allowed the fingers in his mouth roam around. They traced over the silky softness of the inside of his cheeks to the same rhythm as the licks.

 

“You taste— _mm_ —I could, _ah_ , all day…” Midorima’s voice vibrated against the rippled skin.

 

“Fuck… me… you need to… Shin-chan!”

 

Takao’s attempt of a growl sounded pathetic, and it drew a genuine laughter from Midorima. Or maybe his lewd mind imagined it. The tongue moved in and out, fucked him messily, until Midorima spread his hole apart with the help of both of his forefingers. Wide open and gaping, Takao struggled, but his liquid was sucked by Midorima, not one drop trailing to waste. His wetness trickled down on his front and made a mess of his untamed pubic hair. In the midst nestled his cock, hard and jerking. As much as he wanted to touch himself, he knew that such a thing only meant a loss of a hand.

 

Hooking both his index and middle fingers inside Takao, Midorima stretched him as much apart as he could. Takao threw his head on the sides and tried to get a hold of himself, but his heat was swallowing him whole. His insides pulsed, exposed to the room and Midorima’s gaze. Ashamed, embarrassed and so very aroused, Takao’s skin flushed and created red spots from his neck down to his thighs. He was a gasping mess, ready to be unwound.

 

When Midorima finally yanked his own pants down, Takao knew that he had hit the jackpot.

 

He didn’t get a long chance to drool over the length, but he couldn’t help but notice the maze of bulky veins circling around Midorima’s dick. Gasping and salivating, Takao curled his arms around his thighs and pulled them against his chest to give access to what Midorima surely wanted the most. He couldn’t recognize his friend, not when the other held eyes like a demon’s piercing holes to his body, preying on him without reservation. Few times he received slaps straight against the quivering flesh between his buttocks, and no warnings were given when Midorima already buried his cock deep within him.

 

Takao spilled immediately, embarrassingly so. He let out a breathless laugh, and then a moan as Midorima spread the cum around his chest with heated fingertips. Covered by the sloshy mixture of his own seed and liquids, Takao held his legs better against his stomach and rested his soles against Midorima’s chest.

 

The first thrust hurt the most. It pierced him in two and pulled his muscles away from each other, and he screamed so loud for the neighbors to understand the situation. Midorima didn’t stop but pounded even harder, _deeper_ , and Takao couldn’t tell anymore where he ended and Midorima began. It was so very rhythmic, and Midorima held him down, forced him down, and took him how he pleased. Wanting nothing less, Takao tried to search support with his idle fingers and clawed his own skin, drew blood and let out a gasp of breath. Underneath Midorima he writhed, recoiled to every harsh slap, and took Midorima in deeper. He had always dreamed of this, secretly under his suffocating blankets through every heat. He had never imagined Midorima’s features on the faceless assaulter of his dreams, but now Takao knew it couldn’t be anyone else. It was always Midorima, even when he didn’t know it himself. _Always_.

 

Midorima slammed his palm on Takao’s cheek and dragged his nails hard across the skin. Takao mewled and begged and pleaded, but droplets of blood trickled down over his nose and coated his lips. As Midorima dug his nails deeper to the raw skin, he rutted deeper and higher and faster into Takao. Takao squeezed his eye shut, afraid that in the midst of the trance it would be clawed out without an apology. Under the rough handling he grew hard the second time, and inside him Midorima pulsed and gained more length. The skin of his cheek turned into ugly wrinkles underneath the beautiful fingers, and the spots where Midorima touched him ached so badly that Takao wanted to scream.

 

“Who else?” Midorima huffed. He laced his body over Takao’s and pressed his nose flat against the smaller boy’s cheek. His lips tracing over the paths of blood, he slapped his hips erratically to Takao’s and growled, “Who else did you do this with?!”

 

“No one!” Takao whimpered.

 

“ _Who else_?”

 

“N-No one…!”

 

Territorial Shin-chan tipped him over the edge for the second time.

 

Writhing in the midst of the orgasm, Takao wept loudly when Midorima pounded in him thrust after thrust with intensity he had never felt before. Midorima’s glasses were near falling off, and the green hair glued to the forehead. Feeling weak in the back of his eyes, he felt like the world turned off its light. A gush of cum invaded him, and Midorima’s hips spasmed to every hectic jerk that his dick gave in buried within Takao’s warmth. Midorima grunted loud, his growl echoing in the living room, and for the final time he squeezed his manicured nails into Takao’s cheek before he let go and pulled away. Takao clenched his hole to keep everything inside, but some of the mess overflowed and dripped on the floor. A second after he dehisced and pushed out most of the cum that wanted to nuzzle his insides. Breathing heavily, Midorima nudged a finger inside and dug out the rest. He moved it between Takao’s lips, and Takao lapped up what was offered to him.

 

He panted with little mewls in between, and as he laid his eyes on Midorima, he was hardly done. As good as it had been, it wasn’t enough. Midorima didn’t look quite satisfied, either, his chest rising heavily.

 

“What did you mean?” Midorima pulled Takao’s legs back on the floor and worked his hand over the length of his torso.

 

“Mm… What?”

 

“When you said you haven’t done it with anyone.”

 

Takao allowed a smirk. “I meant… that no one else has done that to me.”

 

Midorima huffed and frowned. He shook his head, wrapped an arm around Takao’s waist and pulled him to sit up. Both of them still let out labored breaths. “That’s not possible.” He settled his glasses better on their rightful places. “That wasn’t your first heat, I know it.”

 

“It wasn’t, but I’ve done it myself until now.” And it had been pure torture.

 

“…How?”

 

There was no point hiding it anymore, was there? Takao puckered his lips. “Toys.”

 

Midorima’s eyes widened for a split second. He stared at Takao like he was a rare relic, and under that gaze it was exactly how Takao felt. Squirming, he tried not to get too excited about the hand stroking his inner thigh; even so, his cock twitched lazily. He took deep breaths but couldn’t help but gasp whenever the soft fingers climbed an inch higher towards his sloppy crotch. Looking at Midorima, he knew he had never looked as seductive as he did now. The messy green hair flipped his stomach upside down, and the healthy flush across the face made his heart thud heavily. All he wanted was to tangle his skin to Midorima’s and become one coherent unit.

 

Eventually Midorima breathed out, “Show me.”

 

Not sure whether it was a suggestion or a command, Takao nodded nonetheless. He got up but his knees buckled immediately, and he would have fallen down on the floor if Midorima’s quick reflexes didn’t scoop him up in his arms. Like a bag of potatoes he tangled over the taller boy’s shoulder and let out exhausted snorts. Up and down the small of Midorima’s back Takao worked his nails and left behind a trail of red. Although he could have never marked Midorima like he had done to him, he wanted to at least leave a memory that would last a day or two and then fade away for good.

 

Midorima threw him on the bed. If laughter had curled Takao’s lips before, it was now gone in an instant when Midorima laid his hungry eyes at him. He gulped, quivered gently and couldn’t contain the pressure that nipped the bottom of his stomach. He buried his toes to the blanket and chewed the inside of his cheek.

 

“Where are they?” Impatience laced Midorima’s tone. “The toys, where are they?”

 

Takao pointed at his wardrobe.

 

Midorima wasted no time as he hurried to the wardrobe. With a quiet, longing whimper Takao rolled on his stomach. The ring of muscle pulsed as he watched Midorima lean over and give him a good display of his perfectly sculptured ass. Between the strong thighs the heavy sack hung together with the rapidly hardening shaft. A breath got stuck in Takao’s throat. He brought his hand to his cock and tugged it harsh. Whatever nestled inside those balls, he was going to get it deep inside him. His stomach tightened. He jerked his dick a bit harder, yet hastily let go when Midorima swung around.

 

The sight of his two-membered collection of dildos had never looked better than they now did. Takao held in a breath and puffed his cheeks full of air, and followed Midorima’s steps closely. The toys Midorima dropped on the bed and looked at him with a blazing glare. Feeling like he was in trouble for a reason or another, Takao arched his brows and looked at his favorite playmates. One was glittery pink, twice the size of Midorima – the other with a hue of deep blue, modest but long. They had never been enough to calm down the rage within, whether separate or together, but they had been sufficient. Now that he had gotten the taste of the real thing, it was what Takao craved like a droplet of water in the desert. Already he stretched his arm towards Midorima’s crotch but got rejected by a slap across his knuckles. Midorima cocked his brows higher and nodded towards the dildos.

 

“Those are the things that you have been using instead of turning to me, is that correct?”

 

Takao pushed himself to sit up and pressed his back against the cold wall. He dithered. “Yeah.”

 

“So…” Midorima squeezed his eyes shut and pulled his fingers to white-knuckled fists. “While I was… resisting all these scents left and right that tried to seduce me, you were having your little fun with your friends here. Is that what you’re saying?”

 

“Why—“ His voice broke in the middle. “Why would you do that?”

 

“I told you,” Midorima sharply said. He climbed to the bed, grasped Takao’s knees and yanked them apart. “I claimed you as mine from the beginning. Do you think I’d settle for some meager leftovers when I could have you?”

 

“Nn, Shin-chan…”

 

“Wipe that look from your face, _right now_.”

 

Takao blinked. “What look?” He tilted his head. Midorima’s harsh tone made his insides wet. He sat more upright and tried to ignore the pounding on his neck that his pulse created and sent around his vessels. “I’m not making any look.”

 

“Oh, you are.” Midorima laughed dryly. He squeezed Takao’s knees harder and made the other boy whine. “Those ridiculous puppy eyes… Idiot, you think that’s going to work with me now? Tell me honestly, did it feel good with those damn toys or not?”

 

“It wasn’t… eno— _Ow_!”

 

Midorima had dug his fingers to the hard flesh of Takao’s knees. The motion drew out burning tears from Takao, and they spilled on his cheeks. He hung his head down, but Midorima lifted his face back up by pulling his chin. His eyelids hanging heavy over the eyes, he breathed hard through his flaring nostrils and swallowed. The way Midorima stared deep into his soul did wonders to his body. His hole again slick and ready to go, he trembled. Blood boiled to his cock and proudly yanked it to full length again. Takao saw Midorima’s brief glance on it and the small smirk that pulled the other’s lips higher. Only when he was certain that he could speak without an interruption did he continue.

 

“It wasn’t enough.”

 

“Say it again.”

 

Takao picked up his voice. “Those dildos weren’t enough.”

 

“Hm.” Midorima pursed his lips. He grabbed a hold of the thicker toy and nudged it against the corner of Takao’s mouth. “Here. Show me how you do it by yourself.”

 

Takao’s insides inflamed and gave no room for embarrassment. He poked his tongue out and trailed it over the head of the plastic cock and fixed his eyes at Midorima, made sure to give the thick length the lick it deserved while not averting his gaze. For a moment, he was certain that the toys would be thrown to the floor and he’d get what he really wanted, but Midorima persisted, and he had to subdue. Takao snatched the dildo to himself and grumbled a little sad growl that would never be as magnificent as Midorima’s, and pushed his back on the bumpy mattress. Midorima settled between his legs. Takao tried to pretend he wasn’t there, yet it was hard when such beautiful fingertips caressed his thighs and parted them so wide that his groin ached. For the sake of the show, he swallowed in the tip and suckled, something he never bothered to do if he was alone and in heat. The first wave of the frustration had disappeared from within, so he gave himself permission to get a little playful now that he was at it.

 

There wasn’t much playfulness in Midorima’s harsh stare. Underneath it Takao winced and hooked his legs around the other’s waist. He relaxed his clasping hole that was getting mushy, and nudged the monstrous head of the fake cock inside him. His back arched, and he dug his toes to the small of Midorima’s back. “Nn, _ah_ … A-Ah, _hnnhn…_ ” rolled out of his mouth without an effort. It turned into a high-pitched cry when he shoved the rest of the long length inside, and collapsed properly on the bed. He allowed his muscles tighten around the object, and under Midorima’s observance he writhed, felt somehow special. A shadow of a smirk flashed on his lips as he reached his hand back over his groin and pressed a small button. The dildo inside him became alive and shot a ray of electricity inside his spine.

 

“Ahh… ha… _ha_.” What started as a moan turned into a breathless laughter. Takao moved his hips up to the rhythm of the vibration, and his body swayed like a tide playing around the shore, rising and pulling back without a breakage in the billow. Under the keen eyes shining murky green, he slid his hand from his pubic hair over his abdomen, trailed his fingers around the navel and eventually toyed with his nipples. One by one he tugged the sensitive skin and let out a concerto of moan. He arched his back, offered his chest towards the ceiling, raked his nails across the milky skin and left behind deep trails of blood. Red and bruised, he moved his thighs away from each other and revealed the crooks no one had ever seen before.

 

Midorima’s breath hitched. “Do you always… your nipples?”

 

“Yes!” squealed Takao. The toy inside him buzzed and spread him. It dared to escape, but with the help of his hand he nudged it deep inside again. He clawed the nubs that quivered under his rough embrace. It was hardly enough. It didn’t sate his appetite. Never did. “The other… Put— _ah_ —the other in, hurry… Hurry…!”

 

Within fractions of seconds Midorima pushed the longer, leaner toy inside Takao, and Takao cried out. Again he laughed, and it vibrated deep down his chest and made his heart want to burst out of its cage and rip apart the veins tying it down. Filled, so _full_ , Takao trembled in waves of heat, ones he had never experienced before. Midorima’s eyes pierced him, monitored him, drew in every single detail, and Takao felt enslaved to the pleasure that held him down. A moment later he realized that it wasn’t the pleasure but Midorima’s strong hands holding his wrists down the bed above his head. The stronger one hovering over him, Takao darted his tongue out and panted. He got what he wanted without having to beg, another tongue sloppily pressed against his. Grateful, he sucked the tip of Midorima’s, took it in his mouth and felt it examine his line of teeth and the bigger ones at the very back. He choked. Midorima pushed his hands tighter to the bed and twisted his arms ever so slightly.

 

“Behave,” murmured Midorima with a silky voice. It ran like melted honey through Takao’s ear and made him throb.

 

Midorima pressed his tongue flat against his cheek and took a lick from the sharp jaw to the fine hairline leaving behind a wet pathway. Takao’s tongue still hung out of his mouth – it suddenly felt too big and swollen to fit back to its home –, and from close he watched the curves of the long, dark lashes. Midorima spent a moment licking the scratches on his cheek, and proceeded to suckle his collarbones. Takao’s eyes rolled in his head. His insides melted to boiling goo. The burning tongue continued its travel, and by the time it reached the curve of his armpit, Takao cried out. Midorima yanked his arms even farther behind his head, and Takao was sure he’d rip them off. As his whole bottom vibrated, he thought of the mantises that devoured their partners. If his destiny were to become a broken pile of bones and flesh, he’d take it.

 

Takao pressed his nose to the side of his armpit and heard the slickness of Midorima’s tongue as it swirled right beside. He gathered a distinctive scent of sweat and arousal, and slackly wondered whether it would be a supreme smell if one were to add semen to it. Not able to suggest it because his mouth was full of dragging moans, he tightened his legs’ grasp from Midorima’s waist and pulled his raging erection closer to his own.

 

“I want yours,” he breathed, ready to drown. The grip around his wrists turned more violent. “I want… _yours_ inside me, put it in… Put it in, put it in, _put it in_ …” It became his favorite mantra, one that he murmured under his breath when he had no energy left to wheeze out coherent words.

 

“Don’t blame me if you break apart,” Midorima warned.

 

“I don’t care.” The world looked so hazy. Takao tried to fix his focus on Midorima’s face but couldn’t. Everything was a blur, but he preferred it. All he could think was the thick, bulky veins that would rip him in half any second now. He clung to Midorima’s torso, ready to turn insane and never return to normal again. In waves he worked his body, seduced, pleaded, begged, demanded, and then screamed. His temples pounded, and the ache spread across like a tight collar ready suck all the oxygen out of his brains. “Do it!” he shouted.

 

Midorima lined his body to his. Between the trembling toys he pressed the proud crown of his cock and pushed inside.

 

Takao died, and then experienced a rebirth by the time the whole length settled comfortably inside him. His body spasmed up, his abdomen tightened, and blindly he searched support that was denied from him. Hanging, panting, drooling, Takao could feel all three inside him fighting for dominance. Two vibrated, one pushed deeper inside him in the search of something better. Takao squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head, and found his back peeling against the clinging sheets that swallowed him to their damp kingdom. Droplets of sweat trickled down his temples, the dark hair glued to his forehead, sucked in like little leeches and made him uncomfortable. His eyes showed more white than the irises.

 

With every harsh thrust Midorima exposed his hidden desires a little more.

 

“Shin-chan!” shouted Takao, unable to concentrate, unable to grasp a control of himself. He was scared but _oh_ so aroused. “S-Shin…chan, ah… _ah_ …” It felt like his tongue grew in size; the words turned into porridge no one was willing to eat. Reaching his hand towards the ceiling, clawing the air in desperation, Midorima snatched it to himself and forced it around his nape.

 

“Here.” Midorima stopped moving. For bliss of a moment the only sounds in the bedroom were of Takao’s and the toys. Midorima yanked the smaller fingers better in his grasp and didn’t let go until they grasped his hair and yanked. “I’m here, so _concentrate_!”

 

“I-I’m trying…!”

 

“I’m not stopping.”

 

Takao mewled to the first thrust offered to him again. “I-I don’t want you to… Take the toys out, _nhn_ , take them out, I want… want you, you, I want…”

 

Midorima rolled his eyes and harshly pulled out. Takao’s hole wept from the emptiness, and it only seemed more black and bottomless when Midorima yanked the toys off. The plastic soaked with the thick lubricant, Midorima sucked them hastily, and seemingly made sure that not a speck was lost. The sight made Takao’s pulse chunky. Midorima spotted his stare and grabbed him from his chin, lifted it up until Takao winced from pain in the nape of his neck.

 

“You want to taste?”

 

Takao shook his head. “I want you…” He squeezed his eyes shut. “To fuck me… _now_.” This time, he let out a proud growl, one that had never buzzed in his throat before. It startled him and it startled Midorima, and a moment they spent staring at each other. Then, Takao snickered and whimpered straight afterwards.

 

“Very well,” announced Midorima without a hitch in his tone.

 

Takao knew his little laughter had pressed a switch he wasn’t necessarily ready to push his fingers against. But here he was, more than willing to be ravaged. A lengthy cry rolled away from his tongue as Midorima buried his dick in him at one go, his hole mushy and ready to accept anything given to him. And Midorima delivered, hooked his hands on Takao’s sides and tried to scrape the flesh to the palms in a desperate attempt to keep him steady while he pounded in the other. Midorima thrashed him, tore him, and with his pulsating organ created a three-fold mixture of blood, cum, and other bodily fluids. Takao scraped Midorima’s back from the shoulders all the way down to his buttocks until he couldn’t reach any further. One hand on a hip, Midorima worked his other between their bodies and tugged Takao’s weeping cock as harshly as he could. Afraid to bleed everywhere, Takao didn’t have the mental strength to tell Midorima to stop, not when it felt so good to have sharp nails tickle his sensitive, quivering shaft.

 

In the midst of the ravage, without searching Midorima found the prostate.

 

The moment his glans hit the little nub, they both knew it. An immense bliss burst inside Takao, and his body moved more hectically than before. His moans turned an octave higher, and his heart started a rave on its own. Once Midorima hit it, he kept pounding against the spot, ruthlessly, making the pleasure so good that it turned into pain in Takao’s flesh. Takao cried, the plump tears rolling down his cheeks one by one and then all at once. He couldn’t tell apart what was real anymore, didn’t know if he was alive or descending to hell, yet the only thing that kept him still tied to this world was the twitching of Midorima’s cock inside him. The liquids inside him together with the steady pumping made the action sound so dirty and _sloshy_ , and it was music to Takao’s ear. That was the sound of them connecting, of them soothing each other and Midorima licking the years old wounds that the lonely heats had bore inside him.

 

Four thrusts later against the deliciously sweet little nub inside him Takao came. His passion exploded to Midorima’s precious fingers, soiled them, made them so incredibly dirty that he felt bad about it. But the embrace that the orgasm took him in wasn’t a kind but brute; it made his body spasm and shudder, it made him mewl and whimper and cry, and even when the initial rush was gone, he couldn’t keep still. In the shock of his climax Takao tried to push Midorima out of him, but they were locked together due Midorima’s strength. A moment later Midorima came with a gruff, and Takao’s already wet insides welcomed another set of seed to the company. Languid and feeble, Takao collapsed on the bed.

 

What had once been heat now turned into ice; what had once been passion turned into regret.

 

As soon as Midorima worked his way out, Takao pulled his legs against his chest and rolled on his chest, rocked himself. Just as abruptly as the burning had come, it disappeared, and he was faced with the fear of losing his best friend. He quivered as he tried to catch his frantic breath. His lungs didn’t calm down, and between his buttocks trailed out excessive amount of things he didn’t want there to be; they created a small wet spot right underneath his bottom. He sucked in his lip and listened Midorima’s listless attempts of breathing properly. Then, Midorima enclosed his shoulder in his gentle palm and squeezed.

 

“You okay?”

 

Takao looked at him over shoulder. He swallowed hard. “You tell me, Shin-chan.”

 

Midorima eased himself to the bed and kept his hand on Takao’s shoulder. It burned. “What’s wrong? Was it not good?”

 

“It was,” Takao murmured. Of course Shin-chan wouldn’t understand. He averted his gaze and closed his eyes, swore never to open them again. Yet they popped wide open when Midorima glued his front to Takao’s back and pulled him to a warm embrace that didn’t set deathly fires around his body. A kiss on his nape, and Takao was sold against his will.

 

“I’m not a mind reader, Takao. Tell me what was wrong with it and I’ll improve next time.”

 

“What next time?”

 

Midorima heaved out a heavy sigh; its air trickled to Takao’s ear and made the smaller of them shudder. “I told you…” he wearily announced again, “I claimed you as mine, and it seemed you and I were very compatible.”

 

A little frustrated, Takao huffed, “But are we still friends?”

 

“Idiot.” Rather gently Midorima pulled Takao’s hair and drew out a whine from him. “We’re friends, all right. Stop worrying about petty things.”

 

Takao sighed. “This was exactly what I wanted to avoid…”

 

“Speak up or don’t speak at all.”

 

“Fine, I’m not saying a word then.”

 

“Good.” Midorima pushed himself up and worked his palm over the roundness of Takao’s bottom. He did so for several seconds before awkwardly patting it. “Get up. I’ll get you cleaned and we can continue with the homework.”

 

Takao groaned against a pillow and forced his body to face Midorima. He cringed to the other and poked his tongue out. “I don’t think I can get up, not after what you did to me.”

 

Shrugging, Midorima got himself up on his feet. Effortlessly he wrapped his arms around Takao’s body and lifted him like he weighed nothing at all. Takao exclaimed, and then wiggled.

 

“What are you doing?!”

 

“Taking you to the shower,” Midorima stated, matter-of-factly. “Unless you prefer a bath.”

 

“I can walk on my own! Shin-chan!”

 

“Shut up, Takao.”

 

Takao didn’t shut up and neither stopped struggling until they reached the blinding lightness of the small bathroom. Tangling in Midorima’s arms like a broken puppet, he weighed his options and opted for the shower. He got down on his own feet but immediately sank on the floor. His knees couldn’t handle his weight or the trembling inside his aching muscles. Immediately Midorima rushed over him, and the way he did it made Takao snicker softly. A worrying Shin-chan – now _that_ was a sight he hadn’t seen properly before. He offered Midorima half a grin and received a sullen look back.

 

“Do you want to get up?” slithered through Midorima’s gritted teeth.

 

“I’m fine here, thanks.”

 

And he was, so very fine on the cold tile floor. Midorima turned the shower on, and a torrent of pleasantly warm water engulfed Takao. He lifted his head up and let the droplets gently lick away the blood and saliva from his cheeks, and had just enough strength to push his bangs to the top of his head. His insides still convulsing, a shock traveled through his system when Midorima guided his body down on the shower floor, too. Takao’s eyes widened, but he didn’t have the time to muster out a single thing when he was already pulled to a hug. He narrowed his eyes and looked up at Midorima who kept his bangs where they belong, out of his face that was.

 

“What are you doing?” Takao asked.

 

“Cleaning myself.”

 

“With me.”

 

“With you.”

 

“On the floor.”

 

“Yes, on the floor, don’t state the obvious,” Midorima puffed. He shook his head and licked his lips, and from his fleetingly dreamy expression seemed to savor whatever taste toyed with his delicate buds. Heaving a sigh, he glanced down at Takao and wrinkled his nose. “But you’re my mate now, so it’s only natural.”

 

“Wait, what? Hold on, your _mate_?” Takao scoffed. His cheeks glowed, and soon fluster took him over completely. “Shin-chan… We can’t just… Me and you?”

 

“Yes.” Midorima’s voice sounded on the edge of impatience. “Well, we bonded, so…”

 

“Oh, we _bonded_? No one mentioned anything about that to me.”

 

Midorima slapped him softly across the head. “Ages ago. So you can stop pretending to be surprised now and comply.”

 

Takao rubbed the back of his head. He grumbled but had to admit that he had _known_ since the moment he had first laid his eyes on Midorima that there was something going on. This was how fate had dealt their cards, and they were the cards they were stuck with and had to play with. Not sure whether it was a blessing or curse, Takao curled better to Midorima’s arms and rested his head on his shoulder. Midorima worked his fingers through his wet hair, and somehow, Takao felt rather safe. Resting on the ruins of their friendship, he was _safe_.

 

In his ear Midorima murmured, “Can I mark you?”

 

Takao huffed through his nose. “I think you already did.”

 

“Yes, but… I want to do it properly.”

 

Certain that no one could separate his scent from Midorima’s anymore, Takao peeked up towards him. Never before had he seen Midorima look so sincere and vulnerable, and there was no way he could decline an offer given with that expression. Without a word he nodded. Midorima traced his naked side with his fingers.

 

“Where do you want it?”

 

“Anywhere is fine,” promised Takao.

 

The hesitation was evident in Midorima’s expression. Eventually he pulled away from Takao and settled his lips to the back of his shoulder. Takao gasped for breath but soon relaxed under the touch that fluttered and tugged the strings of his heart. He turned his head enough to see Midorima, spotted his eyes at him, and nodded. Midorima bared his teeth and sank them to the tender skin, lured out final drops of blood and made sure no one would be able to smell Takao without his scent mixed to the deliciousness.

 

The shower drowned Takao’s moans.


End file.
